


Somewhere in Ireland

by Hello_Spikey



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-29
Updated: 2008-09-29
Packaged: 2019-06-15 03:13:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15403704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hello_Spikey/pseuds/Hello_Spikey
Summary: Spike suffers for (fan) art.





	Somewhere in Ireland

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tamakin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamakin/gifts).



> Okay, so I wanted to post fic for Tamakin's b-day... and I didn't. But I wrote this silly little drabble-ish thing for her, and since I mentioned it to her, I now have to post it. For which I must beg her, and surely everyone else's, pardon!

Somewhere in Ireland, a door groaned on its hinges, followed by a gentle 'wuff' and the clatter of dog toe-nails on stone steps. Deep underground, Spike growled, "About fuckin' time!"

"Sorry!" The voice was cheery, young, female, and Irish - and Spike was so past falling for that cutesy "girl next door" vibe. She wriggled into the dank storage room, one shoulder holding the door while she maneuvered a basket around the jamb and an enthusiastic wolfhound squeezed past her to knock one irritated -and starving- vampire over and lick his face.

Spike made a frantic noise and tried to push the dog off of him.

"Mac! Bad boy!"

"He's not the bad one," Spike growled, lifting his head to regard her over the nuzzling dog. "I'm skin and bones here! It's been weeks!"

"Well..." she drew out, blushing. She set down her basket and fished out a rather large and expensive-looking camera. "They wanted you looking starved a bit, and I just couldn't bear to see you starving, could I? Bless their strange little socks, my viewers just have a thing for it. It's not me, you know. It's, uh... it's them. Not me."

"Right," Spike said, eying her warily. "This isn't going to be more of that 'wing' bollocks? Itches like mad."

"Oh no. We won't be doing that again." Bending to adjust the tripod she muttered, "Not that particular pair, anyway."

"Oy! Vampire hearing here! At least act like you care."

Her eyes canted with sorrow. "I do care, Spike. Really, this is just awful, seeing you like this. Don't worry, a few tiny little snapshots, and I have a hot thermos for you."

His eyes instantly moved to the basket and his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. "An' the chains come off?"

Tamara bit her bottom lip. "I just need those for the photo," she lied. "Now sit back and try to look defeated."

With a whistle and a pat of her thigh she finally got the dog to leave the vampire and come sit next to her. He rested his head on his paws, looking eager to watch the photoshoot.

Spike shifted his weight and rested his arms on his knees while the shutter clicked. "Gettin' easier to do that."

"Oh, you!"

He gave her a sarcastic smile, which she snapped. Never knew when one of those would just fit a story.

.....

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so the story behind this is: I was looking at one of Tamakin's manips and the best compliment I could come up with was, "Seriously - you have Spike locked up in your basement, don't you? Because no way you're not taking these photos from life!"
> 
> And no, Tamakin does NOT have a wolfhound named Mac - I just thought she would like one in the story. What with me giving her her very own chained-up Spike it didn't seem so far-fetched. ;)


End file.
